


across the universe (tiny love stories)

by chanson



Category: HOTSHOT (Band), JBJ (Band), Produce 101 (TV), Wanna One (Band)
Genre: Drabble Collection, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-11
Updated: 2018-11-10
Packaged: 2019-03-03 07:01:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13335915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chanson/pseuds/chanson
Summary: A home for the various p101 drabbles I write. New pairings will be added as I go.Ch. 1 • Sungwoon/Taehyun • The Quiet WorldCh. 2 • Minhyun/Seongwoo • A Flame That Never Dies (Les Mis AU)Ch. 3 • Multiple Pairings (See Tags) • Twitter DrabblesCh. 4 • Daniel/Sungwoon • Canon!Verse Fluff (Dating Rumor AU)





	1. the quiet world | sungwoon/taehyun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> based on [this lovely poem](https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/49238/the-quiet-world) by jeffrey mcdaniel wherein people are only allowed 167 spoken words a day. except in this version, instead of using 59 words, sungwoon only has 59 words left (because it was late when i wrote this and i messed up).
> 
> sungwoon/taehyun; canon-divergence au, rated pg, hurt/comfort, 1196 w

Sungwoon’s morning begins with silence, the way they always do now.

They’ve fallen into a pattern at the dorms so that there is never miscommunication and they don’t start their day by squandering words. It’s determined by age order, beginning with the oldest rising and washing up first, which means that Sungwoon is always one of the first ones up. He huddles in the kitchen underneath a throw blanket, warming his hands on his mug of tea, while he waits for nine other boys to get ready.

Sungwoon fiddles with his phone to pass the time, scrolling through the news for important headlines (only politics, and none involving him), answering group texts from his friends (Jongin is in Japan and sent envy-inducing pictures of the ski trip he took on his day off), and finally checking the weather app (2°C, wind chill). Sungwoon opens the camera and taps it so it’s front-facing. Smile already in place, he holds down the record button.

“Hyung, it’s cold today. Please dress warmly.”

Satisfied, he hits send, and sets his phone down. From across the table, Jisung shoots him a soft, indulgent smile. Sungwoon just shrugs, slightly embarrassed, but not the least bit regretful.

…  
  


Their words don’t belong to them anymore, now as much the property of their company as every other part of themselves is. Work is always the first priority, and with only one hundred and sixty-seven words, it’s easy to burn them all during a single recording session. It’s a lot of added pressure to go in knowing that you only get one — perhaps two, if you’re a subvocalist — chance to record your lines, and if you flub them, the album will be delayed by yet another day.

Sungwoon worries that his singing voice will worsen without regular practice, but then maybe it hardly matters anyway, when every performance they do now consists of them mouthing along the words to a backing track. It’s a strange experience, to have the years of your life that you spent building and improving upon a talent rendered worthless after a single rule change.

It’s changed them all in different ways, and Sungwoon observes how each of his groupmates struggles to adjust. He hears Minhyun, who was raised with good manners, waste words on formalities and qualifiers, only to realize at the end that he never got to say what he intended to. He sees Seongwoo, who has never been a tactile person, slowly come to terms with the fact that sometimes the most important conversations are had through touch.

Sungwoon learned straight-forwardness from his grandfather and the language of physical affection from his late grandmother, but he too, changes in his own way. For one thing, he's become less afraid of showing vulnerability, and his words are now equally as likely to be sincere as they are to be sarcastic.

This is why Sungwoon sends videos to Taehyun every morning — even if his work becomes more challenging as a result of it — because he’s never sure if he’ll have words left by the end of the day.

Taehyun only sends texts, never videos, but Sungwoon doesn’t blame him. The leader of a group is always required to speak the most, and anyway, if Taehyun sent him video messages, Sungwoon would probably be too embarrassed (on Taehyun’s behalf) to even watch it. That shit is only cute when Sungwoon pulls it.

…  
  


In the fifty days since the law was implemented, Sungwoon has become a master at nonverbal communication. He’s still chatty, but now he converses with the other members and staff through sign language and lip-reading, gestures and scribbled messages on the whiteboards they keep at their sides. He sends pictures and texts to his friends, and emails to his relatives. Phone calls are reserved for the three most precious people in his life: his little sister, his grandfather, and Taehyun. Taehyun is always the last person he calls, and more often than not, they just sit there listening to the other breathe because they’ve already run out of words.

Today, their only big schedule is a Lotte CF shooting, and Sungwoon feels quite optimistic at the odds of having a few extra words left for his evening phone call with Taehyun.

The CF shooting goes about as smoothly as he could’ve hoped. Sungwoon has to sing a jingle, which takes two attempts and uses up fifty-six words, but overall isn’t too bad. He spends twenty-five while checking up on his grandfather during his lunch break (their conversations were short even before the word limit), and another twenty slip out at various moments throughout the day.

During their drive back home from the dance studio, Sungwoon plugs his headphones into his iPad and scrolls through Twitter. JBJ had a fancon earlier today, and though Sungwoon doesn’t keep up with their schedule — he can barely remember his own as is —  he sees a fan-taken video on his feed and taps play.  
  
Taehyun’s familiar voice immediately fills his ears as the members give their ending ment. Sungwoon tries to count words, but they speak quickly in excitement and he loses track.  
  
Taehyun and Sanggyun are joking about something; _“You liar!”_ Taehyun yells, pointing an accusing finger at the other man. Taehyun’s distinctive rowdy laughter makes the corners of Sungwoon’s mouth twitch up involuntarily. _“The truth is Sanggyun—”_ he stops suddenly and grimaces. The smile slides off Sungwoon’s face instantaneously and he sets down the iPad with a sigh, not even bothering to listen as Donghan smoothly steps in and finishes Taehyun’s story, much to the delight of the audience. He knows Taehyun has reached his word limit for the day, and Sungwoon will end up listening to another silent line tonight.

It’s times like these that their distance hurts the most because it would all be so much more bearable if he could at least _see_ him.

…

  
He calls Taehyun when they get back to the dorm. Taehyun picks up, but doesn’t answer, like Sungwoon knew he wouldn’t.

“I saved fifty-nine words for you,” Sungwoon says, with as much exuberance as he can muster at this late hour. Taehyun’s steady breaths are the only acknowledgement he gets.

“I thought about saying ‘I love you,’ but I just saw this squirrel outside the dorm.” Sungwoon laughs softly. He doesn’t need to see Taehyun to know that he’s frowning at the squirrel reference, but who would Sungwoon be if he didn’t tease a little? “There’s ice on the ground and I didn’t think he’d find anything, but he kept digging until he found an acorn stash so he could feed his litter of baby squirrels.” Sungwoon counts the words in his head, 160, 161, 162, “He reminded me of you.” 167.

There’s a sharp inhale, followed by a weak incredulous chuckle.

“Dumbass,” Taehyun says, and this time it’s Sungwoon’s turn to let out a soft noise of surprise. Taehyun must’ve been counting in his head on stage, stopping just short of hitting his daily quota. Sungwoon laughs wetly, feels the sting behind his eyes.

He hears exactly what Taehyun is saying, even if he doesn’t have the three words left to say it. 

 


	2. a flame that never dies | minhyun/seongwoo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> minhyun/seongwoo; les misérables au because i had A Need, rated m, 2836 w (so much for my 2k word limit)
> 
> if you’re not familiar with les mis, this will probably read quite strangely, but just know that this fic takes place in paris in 1832 and that they are young french revolutionaries fighting for republican ideals (i know- please suspend your disbelief). and if you are familiar, then you will probably recognize minhyun as enjolras and seongwoo as grantaire, although their personalities have been changed slightly to better fit onghwang. 
> 
> !!! warnings: references to war and poverty. self-esteem issues. drinking/alcohol as a coping mechanism. cynicism. also it’s les misérables, so it’s vaguely angsty by default… honestly, this is just a wildly self-indulgent mess and i apologize in advance.

✗ ✗ ✗

 

Seongwoo falls in love with Minhyun’s face first. Then, Minhyun opens his mouth and begins to speak, and Seongwoo falls in love with his words as well.

They are all lies, to be sure, but beautiful ones. Minhyun is the only person Seongwoo knows who can rival him at his most poetic. Every sentence Minhyun speaks is well-crafted and articulate, yet laced with such intense passion that it will captivate anyone listening in.

Even Seongwoo, who is sharp enough to see them for the elaborate fantasies that they truly are, has fallen under Minhyun’s spell, and sat there, enthralled, for hours as Minhyun gives rousing speeches on democracy and the need for revolution.

 

✗ ✗ ✗

 

Seongwoo never expected he’d be drawn into Minhyun’s orbit, but here he is, a distant planet hovering as close as he dares to Minhyun’s sun, hoping to catch a few rays of light.

It begins when Daniel, who has a tendency to dive head first into whatever new interest captures his fancy, drops by Seongwoo’s flat one miserable evening in November. Daniel starts babbling all sorts of nonsense about civic duty and overthrowing the monarchy while Seongwoo just sits there, head in his hands, trying to will away his migraine through the sheer power of thought.

After twenty minutes of fervent pacing and gesticulating, Daniel finally stops and turns to Seongwoo with a sweet, earnest smile. “They’re really making a difference, Seongwoo. I think we can too.”

Of course, Seongwoo can’t leave it at that. He feels compelled to attend the next meeting of this student group Daniel has joined and find out which crook has been filling his friend’s pure, gullible mind with poisonous thoughts of rebellion.

He arrives in the cramped room upstairs of the Café Musain on a Tuesday night, fully prepared for an evening of insufferable political drivel.

Daniel nudges him as someone walks to the center of the room. “That’s the President,” he whispers.

Seongwoo looks up from his glass and his gaze fixes upon the striking figure of a man in a scarlet coat, who introduces himself as Hwang Minhyun. In that instant, Seongwoo’s world changes for good.

Seongwoo doesn’t consider himself a cynic, merely a realist. There is no point in encouraging people to sacrifice themselves for ideals that will never amount to anything tangible. With poverty, hunger, and disease sweeping the country, they will all die soon enough, anyway. Instead, Seongwoo uses humor and flirtation to mask his fear, combats life’s disappointments with drinking and art and sex, and is _always_ very careful to keeps his expectations low.

When Seongwoo voices this opinion — that the world is a rigged game and their deaths would be inconsequential — a hush falls over the room, and Minhyun looks at Seongwoo for the first time.

(Part of him wonders if that’s the real reason he spoke up — because he wanted Minhyun to notice him.)

Minhyun wastes few words refuting Seongwoo. He offers a succinct response, insisting that the future generations alone would be reason enough to try, and moves on before Seongwoo can point out the lack of future _anything_ if they fail.

After the meeting ends, Minhyun approaches Seongwoo with a pinched expression on his face.

“Why are you here?”

“For the drinks and the company,” Seongwoo quips, raising his glass and toasting the air.

Minhyun is even lovelier up close, and Seongwoo wishes he had the foresight to bring his sketchbook with him, itching to draw the beautiful shape of Minhyun’s eyes, the curl of his eyelashes as he blinks in surprise.

“You do not care about France.” It isn’t a question, simply a statement.

“I care about _the people_ of France,” Seongwoo corrects, “which is exactly why I do not believe they should snuff out their lives for a pointless cause.”

Seongwoo expects anger (and perhaps, hopes for it). What he gets instead is Minhyun shaking his head, a smirk dancing on his lips, as though _Seongwoo_ is the one who is blind to the truth.

“The revolution will happen whether or not you take part in it,” Minhyun says. “If you are a brave man, come back this Friday, and I will change your mind.”

There is not an ounce of uncertainty in Minhyun’s voice, only conviction and faith in his own ability to make Seongwoo understand.

To Seongwoo, it sounds like a taunt.

 

✗ ✗ ✗

 

This is how Seongwoo finds himself returning to Café Musain that Friday, and then the following Tuesday, and then the Friday after that.

Minhyun never does persuade Seongwoo to turn full insurgent, but Seongwoo continues to attend the meetings anyway, so perhaps Minhyun feels that it is enough. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time someone gave up on Seongwoo after faced with his obstinacy.

Still, it turns into a pattern, and it doesn’t take long before Seongwoo finds himself choosing the café over his other nightly haunts. He grows close to many of the other revolutionaries, to the point where they now consider each other brothers.

There’s Daniel of course, who has been by Seongwoo’s side for years, but there’s also Jisung, Minhyun’s right-hand man, and Jihoon and Woojin, two of the brightest of the bunch that remind Seongwoo so much of himself when he was younger and less jaded. Often Daehwi and Guanlin will join as well, even though they are just kids — far too young to be signing their lives over to a cause like this, but within whom the fire of revolution burns hot, branding the notion of heroism onto their minds.

And then, there is Minhyun.

Seongwoo cannot quite call him a friend when Minhyun only tolerates him at best.

Usually, Minhyun ignores Seongwoo outright, too devoted to his cause to pay much attention to anything else. The only times he notices him is when Seongwoo grows desperate for attention and contradicts Minhyun during one of his speeches. Seongwoo lives for these moments — when Minhyun will turn his full focus towards him — and often they will debate a single point of contention for hours until everyone but themselves grows tired of hearing them talk.  

“Do you two have to flirt _during_ the meeting?” Daniel will ask whenever this happens, chuckling to himself.

He doesn’t know what Daniel thinks is going on, but as far as Seongwoo can tell, Minhyun is entirely oblivious to Seongwoo’s feelings.

To Minhyun, love is only a distraction.

It’s evident by how Minhyun grows increasingly frustrated with Daniel, who has once again become enamoured, not with a cause this time, but with a man — one with the smoothest skin and fullest lips, as Daniel tells it. Whenever Minhyun scolds him for missing a meeting, Daniel will complain to Seongwoo about Minhyun’s lack of empathy. Seongwoo understands the truth, however, that Minhyun’s lifelong love will always be the revolution.

(Seongwoo has always been weak to his own romantic streak. The only thing that can overpower it is his masochistic one.)

 

✗ ✗ ✗

 

Seongwoo carries his sketchbook with him as a matter of habit now. During meetings, he sits in the back of the room and listens to Minhyun spout eloquent nonsense while he draws him as various Greek gods and heroes befitting of Minhyun’s beauty and presence. Apollo usually, but sometimes Achilles, occasionally Orestes.

In addition to his sketchbook and pencil, Seongwoo also carries with him a single red soft pastel. Every drawing of Minhyun is finished off with a touch of red because the color somehow just suits him.

Sometimes, hours later, Seongwoo will return to a drawing and not remember if the splash of red across Minhyun’s chest is supposed to be his coat or his blood.

 

✗ ✗ ✗

 

“Nothing is inevitable, Seongwoo,” Minhyun tells him one evening after Seongwoo has had far more than usual to drink.

Earlier that afternoon, he’d passed the father of the family of five that lives in the flat below him begging on the street. Seongwoo had emptied his wallet into the man’s cap, save for one coin which he promptly spent on a bottle of wine.

Seongwoo’s disruptions were particularly cynical that evening, bordering on belligerent when he pointed out that it is impossible to escape the oppressive hand of the monarchy.

The meeting has since ended, but instead of debriefing with Jisung, Minhyun is inexplicably at Seongwoo’s side. He grabs the bottle that Seongwoo clutches between his palms, his last line of defense against the full force of Minhyun’s overwhelming attention.

“We always have a choice.”

Minhyun is wrong, as always. Seongwoo doesn’t doubt that it feels true to Minhyun, who was born into a life of affluence and _chose_ this cause, but many other people are dealt life’s scraps and left with no choice but to accept them.

Seongwoo’s skepticism developed not out of choice, but out of life experience.

It’s why he knows that some things _are_ inevitable. Like poverty and disenfranchisement. Like suffering under the current regime. Like him falling for Minhyun. Like Minhyun never loving him back.

 

✗ ✗ ✗

 

Winter passes slowly, but Spring races by, as though it knows a summer rebellion is on its way. Soon it is already the beginning of June.

The nights are warm and perfectly suited to Seongwoo’s second-favorite evening pastime, strolling along the narrow streets of Paris with a bottle of wine in his hand. As he walks, he plasters flyers on walls and shoves them through the cracks underneath locked doors.

Earlier that week, Minhyun had expressed frustration that their numbers weren’t growing despite the fact that revolution is so near they can almost taste it. Seongwoo had stayed up for the entirety of the following night, drawing and printing flyers. They read _‘Vive La République’_ in bold lettering over a drawing of Minhyun’s side profile alongside the French flag. It’s a simple design, but a striking one.

Seongwoo drags Daniel along with him, mainly so he doesn’t feel quite as much like the besotted fool that he truly is. Daniel begs off early though, looking rather flustered and claiming he has a prior appointment. (Seongwoo doesn’t fault his friend for wanting to get laid, though he doesn’t understand why Daniel has to be so _secretive_ about it.)

He covers the final stretch through the Latin Quarter on his own, hanging the last few around the Sorbonne before ending his route at Café Musain.

Seongwoo walks up the stairs to the private meeting room that is always open for them, although it is empty at this late hour.

Exhausted, Seongwoo collapses into a chair. He plans to rest here until he finishes his drink and then return home.

In reality, he sleeps.

 

✗ ✗ ✗

 

Seongwoo wakes to the sound of footsteps on the staircase. The pale light of early dawn shines through the slats in the shutters, and when Seongwoo lifts his head, he sees Minhyun.

(It figures that Minhyun would be at work before the sun rises in the sky.)  

Minhyun isn’t wearing his coat for once; instead it lays neatly folded in his arms. As Minhyun approaches him, he can’t help but notice how much gentler Minhyun appears in just his loose flowing undershirt.

“Did you sleep here?” Minhyun asks, gaze flickering to the wine bottle by Seongwoo’s elbow. It’s only a third empty, yet he feels certain that Minhyun isn’t eying it because he’s impressed with Seongwoo’s restraint.

“Only in the hope that I might absorb some of the revolutionary fervor in my sleep.”

Seongwoo expects a scolding, not for Minhyun to reach into his coat pocket and pull out a perfectly folded square of paper. Seongwoo knows it’s his flyer even before Minhyun lays it open on the table.

(If it were anyone else, Seongwoo might be tempted to assume that the crisp folds and gentle way Minhyun handles the paper are indicative of care, but he knows Minhyun is simply a tidy person.)

“What’s this?” Seongwoo asks. He stands up, dusting off his pants and feigning nonchalance. “Have you abandoned rhetoric and resorted to flyers to win me to your cause?”

Minhyun frowns. “This is drawn by your hand. I would recognize it anywhere.”

“What makes you so sure?”

Then, the most delightfully surprising thing happens — Minhyun blushes.

“You are the only one who draws me this way.” He pauses; wets his lips. “Like I’m someone special. More than just human.”

Seongwoo didn’t even know Minhyun was aware that he drew, let alone the fact that most of his drawings starred Minhyun himself.

Seongwoo’s voice feels thick, and he hopes he doesn’t sound as vulnerable as he feels. “It’s propaganda. What better way is there to draw people to a cause than a pretty face?”

Minhyun stares at Seongwoo as though waiting for him to say something more. When it’s clear Seongwoo isn’t going to, he sighs.

“Why must you always be so contrary?” Minhyun runs a frustrated hand through his hair. “You argue against every point I make, but then you go ahead and do things like—” Minhyun gestures at the flyer, “—like drawing portraits of me and hanging these up around Paris unasked.” He sighs again, then continues in a softer voice, “I don’t understand you, Seongwoo.”

There’s a sarcastic response ready on Seongwoo’s tongue, but something about the way Minhyun says his name makes him falter and change course.

“I made the flyers because I thought it would make you happy,” Seongwoo says, with such sincerity that it surprises even himself. “I still do not believe in spreading false hope, but if people see these and choose to come, then perhaps it’s because they need it to endure.”

“Who is to say it is false? If you only gave it a chance, Seongwoo, you would realize that The Republic is both possible and worth fighting for.”

Seongwoo laughs, only slightly bitter. “Your views are tempting, Minhyun. Just like everything else about you.” He shakes his head and his voice is brimming with emotion. “I have already committed myself to die by your side, isn’t that enough for you?”

Minhyun looks at him for a long moment, as though he’s seeing Seongwoo for the first time, _really_ seeing him. Seongwoo shifts, uncomfortable at having exposed his heart so suddenly; but then it’s not like his feelings were a secret to anyone except Minhyun anyway.

When Minhyun finally speaks, his voice is gentle. “Are you really so afraid of living?”

He takes a step forward, closing the distance between them.

“How can I convince you then, Seongwoo?” Minhyun continues, softly. “Tell me what you hope for and I will show you that it _can_ come true.”

It’s an impossible promise; they both know it. But Seongwoo also knows that Minhyun will go to great lengths to win an argument, and he decides to be selfish, just this once. “Then how about a kiss?”

To his surprise, Minhyun doesn’t recoil in disgust, or try to talk his way around it, or even give Seongwoo a resigned peck on the cheek. No, none of those things.

Instead, Minhyun smiles.

It’s a proper smile too, one that reaches his eyes, and it’s dazzling. Seongwoo can count on two hands the number of times Minhyun has smiled in his direction, and until today, he has never been the cause of any of them.

“Is that what you hope for?” Minhyun asks, voice teasing, but not unkind. He brushes his hand against Seongwoo’s cheek, and before Seongwoo can respond, he feels the chaste press of Minhyun’s lips against his own.

The kiss is fleeting, over so quickly he’d think he had imagined it if not for the tingling feeling in his lips and Minhyun’s smile which is still very much in place.

“In that case, continue to hope for them, Seongwoo, and allow me to prove to you that having hope is always worthwhile,” Minhyun whispers. He runs his thumb along Seongwoo’s bottom lip, before letting his hand fall to his side. “After we win the rebellion, I will shower you with kisses until you grow tired of them.”

Seongwoo stands there in stunned silence, staring at Minhyun’s amused expression before he realizes that he is waiting for an answer.

“I don’t think it would be possible to ever grow tired of your kisses,” Seongwoo finally manages.

Minhyun laughs softly. “I should’ve known you were a romantic.”

“To the bone,” Seongwoo agrees, and then, because his honesty seems to be paying off this morning, he adds, “I may not believe in your revolution, but I believe in you.”

Minhyun grasps Seongwoo’s hand in his own, squeezes it once, before letting go. “It’s a start.”

Outside, the streets begin to fill as people wake up. Cutting through the morning clamor, there’s an excited voice, Daehwi’s he thinks, shouting Minhyun’s name.

Minhyun throws one last glance at Seongwoo before he moves towards the stairs to find the source of the commotion. Seongwoo follows, not far behind him.

There’s a new feeling in his chest — something like hope fluttering in between in his ribs, and in his heart, a burning feeling of determination, not to suffer this time, but to triumph.

 

✗ ✗ ✗


	3. sentence drabble challenge | multiple pairings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> these drabbles were to fill a challenge i hosted on twitter where people gave me a pairing + the first sentence of a story and then i wrote the next five... though in every case i wrote more than that because i apparently can't shut up.
> 
> drabbles are arranged by pairing in the following order if you want to skip ahead:  
> taehyun/sanggyun - 2  
> minhyun/sungwoon - 2  
> daniel/kai (exo) - 2  
> daniel/sungwoon - 4  
> seongwoo/minhyun - 3  
> hyunbin/sungwoon - 1
> 
> a huge thank you to everyone who contributed a sentence! ♡

**sogyun ; taehyun x sanggyun - canon compliant - 260 w**

Sungwoon has always mentioned how painstakingly obvious it is when Taehyun is in love.

He’s not wrong. No matter how often his manager advises him to, Taehyun will never be the sort of person who can keep a lid on his emotions—he just _feels too much_ —and every time he tries, his love comes bubbling up anyway, words of infatuation spilling out, unbidden and impossible to contain.

“God gave you the heart of a giant, but the body of a child,” Sungwoon nods sagely when he complains about this, and Taehyun flicks a piece of carrot from his wilted salad at him.

It’s hardly a surprise then, that Taehyun starts talking about Sanggyun at length during interviews—waxing poetic about Sanggyun’s duality, complimenting his handsome aura on stage, describing how _cute_ he looks when flustered—and he doesn’t even realize just how _gone_ he sounds until their manager drops a stack of magazines in their dressing room from their latest shoot and Taehyun sees his words mirrored back at him through print.

He stands there, mortified, for probably a full minute, wondering if it’s too late to fake illness and head back to the dorms early, when a pair of familiar arms wrap around his waist, enveloping him in warmth, and Sanggyun croons in his ear, “Hyung, tell me more about how handsome I am.”

Taehyun thinks elbowing Sanggyun in the stomach is a totally justifiable response; after all, it’s not like Sanggyun doesn’t already know—as if Taehyun doesn’t remind him of that very fact every evening before he kisses him good night.

┅

**sogyun ; taehyun x sanggyun - slice of life - 491 w**

It’s not that Sanggyun doesn’t notice; it’s just that—like everything he does—he wants this transition to be perfect.

So yes, Sanggyun _does_ hear his phone ringing, three separate times within ten minutes in fact, but he doesn’t bother picking it up because it’s of minor importance when he’s _this_ close to completing the greatest work of art to ever grace the interior of a moderately-sized affordable housing unit in Seoul.

Half an hour later, he’s adding the finishes touches with his paintbrush, dabbing a bit of orange onto the legs of the squirrel monkeys, a dash of cerulean onto the wings of the macaw parrots, before he finally steps back, satisfied. The once bare walls of the empty bedroom in their new apartment have now been replaced with a lush junglescape. Michelangelo _who?_ He’s got nothing on Sanggyun.

“I hope you’re in the mood for Chinese since you weren’t answering any of my calls,” Taehyun snarks as he walks into the room. Sanggyun turns away from admiring his handiwork just in time to see Taehyun’s eyes widen in shock as he takes in Sanggyun’s masterpiece. “What happened here?”

“Do you like it? It’s cool right?”

Taehyun sets the bags of take out carefully on the floor and walks closer to get a better look. Across three of the four walls spans an intricate, vivid jungle scene, complete with every sort of jungle animal imaginable—from monkeys to parrots, tree frogs to butterflies—with the highlight being the center wall which features a majestic leopard who lies on a rock next to a giant, gushing waterfall.

“I don’t know what I was expecting when I agreed to let you be in charge of decorating our daughter’s room, but…” Taehyun turns to Sanggyun and breaks into a wide grin, “this is _so much cooler_.”

“Right?” Sanggyun preens and walks over to Taehyun, plastering himself to his back and wrapping his arms around his waist, not really caring about the fact that he’s still in paint-splattered overalls. “She’s going to grow up to be the fiercest little girl so I figured she’d need a room to match.”

Taehyun flashes him a smile and they stand there in silence looking at the newly decorated walls and envisioning the memories that are soon going to fill this room. Their food is probably getting cold, but Sanggyun finds that he’s too content to move.

“Two days,” Taehyun finally says, voice soft, almost disbelieving. “We get to bring our daughter home in _two days_.”

Sanggyun beams at him, heart so full of joy it could burst.

If you had told him five years ago that today he’d be standing with Taehyun in the freshly painted nursery of an apartment that they own, married to his best friend, and ready to welcome their newly born daughter into their lives, he’d never have believed it—but now here he is, happier than he ever imagined he could be.

“It can’t come soon enough.”

┅

**hwangcloud ; minhyun x sungwoon - teacher/parent au - 354 w**

Despite what Seongwoo might claim (loudly and often obnoxiously), Minhyun does not have a crush on his daughter’s kindergarten teacher.

Sure, Minhyun’s first thought when he meets Sungwoon at the parent-teacher conference is that he is startlingly attractive, but that’s only because Minhyun has a working pair of eyes.

And yes, when Dahee comes home professing her love for Mr. Ha because he taught her how to tie her shoes, Minhyun _does_ feel rather grateful, but that’s only because he’s been trying to teach her how for months, and now he no longer has to worry about Dahee tripping over her own shoelaces when he’s not around.

Okay, and _yes_ , when Sungwoon requests chaperones for their field trip to the zoo, Minhyun _does_ take the day off and volunteer—“you never take time off,” Seongwoo points out with a smirk—but that’s just because he’s deeply invested in Dahee’s education.

And _so what_ if Sungwoon buys Minhyun ice cream when they stop for a snack break—he’s buying for an entire class of five year olds, it’s just common decency to treat Minhyun to one too; the fact that Minhyun’s heart is beating at double time is simply due to the sugar rush and has nothing whatsoever to do with _Sungwoon_.

 _Fine_ , maybe it’s a little bit cute the way Sungwoon scrunches his nose when a tiger swallowtail lands on it while they’re inside the butterfly jungle, and okay, maybe _for a second_ , Minhyun has the embarrassing thought that he’d very much like to kiss Sungwoon’s nose himself, but clearly a day spent in the sun has worn on him and he’s not thinking straight.

All of this is beside the point because Minhyun is here only out of parental interest, for _Dahee_ , and that’s why, when Minhyun takes the empty seat next to Sungwoon on the school bus full of exhausted five year olds and Sungwoon turns to him with his own exhausted, but pleased smile, Minhyun isn’t thinking about how he’s had more fun today than on any actual date he’s been on in the past year—because Minhyun absolutely does _not_ have a crush. 

┅

**hwangcloud ; minhyun x sungwoon - college au - 510 w**

The new TA for Minhyun’s music theory class looks a lot like the guy he brought home from the bar last night.

In fact, Minhyun can say with almost 100% certainty that they’re the same person because he spent most of last night familiarizing himself with those particular lips, mapping that lithe body with his hands and mouth.

Fate sure has a cruel sense of humor; the first and only time in Minhyun’s life that he decides to hook up with a stranger, he turns out to be his TA. At least Sungwoon is too preoccupied with setting up the projector to have noticed Minhyun yet—small mercies and all that.

 _This is fine,_ Minhyun tells himself, taking a deep breath and trying to relax his shoulders, _just play it cool_.

Naturally, Minhyun showed up to class fifteen minutes early, which means he’s got several more minutes to either sit there and stew or find something to occupy him so he doesn’t look like a complete friendless loser. He decides on the latter option and pulls out his phone so that he can appear cooly disinterested in case Sungwoon glances his way and also so he can send Minki a desperate SOS text.

His friend is to blame anyway. After all, _Minki_ is the one who took it upon himself to coach Minhyun on how to navigate the complex hook up culture of university, and it was _Minki_ who abandoned Minhyun yesterday after Sungwoon approached them, whispering a cheerful “good luck” before swanning off to who knows where.

It took a whole three weeks of Minki’s careful instruction before Minhyun even dared to put any of his newly acquired seduction skills into practice, and yet in this moment, he’s at an utter loss for what to do next.

For all of Minki’s lessons, never once did they cover what to do when you get along extremely well with your one night stand, when you have natural chemistry and feel like you could talk to him for hours, when you start imagining not just the spending the nights with him, but the days as well, or when you wake up to cold sheets and an empty bed the following morning.

Nor did they cover what to do when said one night stand suddenly reappears in your 8:00am Music Theory class.

Minhyun’s still staring holes into his phone, trying to will a response despite knowing that Minki is probably fast asleep, when his phone chimes with an incoming text. It’s not from Minki though, but from a contact that he _knows_ he didn’t add to his phone. Minhyun stares blankly at the words in front of him, trying to process them.

_**From: Sungwoonie <3 ** _

_Morning sleepyhead. Free for lunch after?_

Slowly, Minhyun raises his head; Sungwoon is already looking at him. He grins and waves at Minhyun, and Minhyun hesitantly returns the gesture, feeling confused and slightly shy, but mostly just pleased.

At that moment, Minki finally decides to text back, but Minhyun ignores it; he has a lunch date to plan.

┅

**kainiel ; daniel x kai (exo) - fan/idol au - 380 w**

“You,” Daniel says with utmost sincerity, “look like someone I could spend the rest of my life loving.”

No, that sounds stupid even to his own ears.

Daniel lets out a forlorn sigh; he’s only got one chance to get this right and it’s already almost his turn—in a matter of moments he’ll be standing in front of Jongin, _The Kim Jongin_ , the man who has occupied both his every waking daydream and three of the four walls of Daniel’s bedroom for the past year, and he still hasn’t figured out the perfect combination of words to leave an impression on the man he loves idolizes.

Before he knows it, it’s his turn, and suddenly Jongin is right in front of him, gazing up at him with sleepy eyes and a soft smile, and Daniel feels like he’s dying and being reborn at the very same instant.

He thrusts the teddy bear he brought at Jongin and sucks in a deep breath. “You—” he pauses; shit, what was it he was going to say again? Why are Jongin’s eyes so sparkly from up close? And why does he have to look so warm and rumpled and boyfriend-like today of all days? And maybe most importantly, why does it look like he’s checking Daniel out? He laughs nervously, “—um…”

“You have nice shoulders,” Jongin observes, saving Daniel from his nonsensical stuttering. There’s a flirty edge to his voice, and Daniel had been warned about Jongin’s lethal fanservice, but he wasn’t prepared for _this,_ “and a nice smile.”

“Oh,” Daniel replies. His face is on fire and his heart is beating a mile a minute, but this is also the only chance he has, so before he can lose his nerve he blurts out, “—I could spend the rest of my life loving you.”

“Oh,” Jongin echoes, now looking equally as embarrassed as Daniel feels, which is to say _so embarrassed that he wants the Earth to open up and swallow them both whole_ , but there’s also a shy, pleased smile on his face, “then I hope you do.”

The security guard pushes Daniel along before he can say anything else, but Daniel is far too happy to be bothered; Jongin’s gaze lingers on him until the crowd finally obscures his view.

┅

**kainiel ; daniel x kai (exo), daniel x sungwoon - college au - 245 w**

“You,” Daniel says with utmost sincerity, “look like someone I could spend the rest of my life loving.”

On Daniel’s laptop screen, dancer-slash-idol-slash-actor Kim Jongin says the exact same thing to a beautiful actress as he holds out his umbrella to shelter her from the rain.

“Um, how many times have you watched this drama?” Sungwoon asks, unsure whether or not he actually wants to know the answer. This is definitely _not_ what he had imagined would happen when Daniel invited him over to “Netflix and chill.”

Daniel turns towards him with shining eyes, _has he been crying?_ , and says, with the reverent voice of a man who is utterly in love, “I watch it every night before I sleep.”

Sungwoon suppresses a groan; he knew that it was too good to be true when the ridiculously attractive boy in his dance class started showing interest him. Why does Sungwoon always pick up the weirdos? “Oh, that’s nice.”

Daniel ducks his head and schooches a little closer to Sungwoon on the couch—close enough that he can feel the warmth of Daniel’s thighs through his jeans as they press companionably against Sungwoon’s own; “I’m glad you’re a fan of Kai too,” he admits shyly.

Sungwoon gulps before nodding earnestly. “Oh yeah,” he croaks out, “since debut.”

Daniel’s answering smile is bright enough to light up the room, and as Sungwoon finds himself returning his grin, he has the horrible realization that he is _so very screwed_.

┅

 **nielwoon ; daniel x sungwoon - sickfic - 224 w**  
  
“You forgot to take your medication.”

Sungwoon looks up at him with what he probably thinks is a murderous glare, but with the duvet wrapped around his head, rosy nose peeking out, and glasses askew, he looks about as threatening as a kitten (and Daniel loves kittens).

“It’s gross,” Sungwoon pouts, miserable, “be a good boyfriend and leave me to suffer in peace.”

“You need to take it if you want to get better,” Daniel cajoles, amused despite himself at Sungwoon’s pitiful expression as he pushes the paper cup of bitter cough medicine at him. “Not that it wouldn’t be hilarious if your voice kept cracking for the next month.”

Predictably, the dig is enough to raise his hackles and Sungwoon snakes one arm out of his blanket burrito to snatch the cup from Daniel’s hands. He downs it in a single swallow before pulling a disgusted face.

Satisfied, Daniel moves to stand up, but Sungwoon tugs at his arm to stop him. “Where are you going?”

“To leave you to suffer… like a good boyfriend?”

“Idiot,” Sungwoon scoffs, like he hadn’t just demanded exactly that.

He opens his blankets like a bat spreading its wings and wraps his arms around Daniel, pulling him close until they’re chest to chest.

“Just cuddle with me,” he orders, and Daniel smiles. Now _that_ , he can do.

┅

**nielwoon ; daniel x sungwoon - dystopian scifi au - 432 w**

DANIEL is dangerous.

Or at least, that is what the government wants them to believe.

DANIEL’s name, face, and specs are broadcasted on screens across the city and as alerts on everyone’s smart devices accompanied by flashing red graphics that proclaim him a threat. On the news, over the radio, even through the loudspeakers in subway stations, stern voices warn citizens of the android gone rogue—military-grade, lethal, _trained-to-kill_ —and that if anyone sees him to contact law enforcement _immediately._

They’ve been on the run for weeks now, hiding in various safe houses across the city, their survival almost entirely due to Sungwoon’s extensive network of freedom fighters; people like him who are part of resistance, each doing their part to thwart the repressive government.

Sungwoon never intended to make DANIEL his cause. He was doing recon, snooping in the confidential floor of one of the less heavily guarded military bases, when he saw DANIEL. His terrified and knowing gaze had triggered something within Sungwoon, and in a matter of minutes he was abandoning all previous plans for a new rescue mission.

Their safe house for the evening is an abandoned warehouse in Incheon close to the harbour. Tomorrow morning they’ll board a ship and make their escape once and for all.

A stray cat wanders into their safe house—no doubt also looking for reprieve from the biting cold—and immediately captures DANIEL’s attention.

DANIEL eyes Sungwoon’s simple meal of cold leftovers and shoots him an imploring look, and Sungwoon sighs, scooping half his portion onto the container lid and handing it over. He still hasn’t learned how to say “no” to DANIEL, nor does he particularly care to.

Sungwoon watches with barely concealed fondness as DANIEL bends down and coos over the cat, offering his hand which holds a few bites of Sungwoon’s dinner. The cat takes a tentative sniff before deeming it acceptable and devouring the food, and DANIEL giggles at the feel of her rough tongue against his synthetic skin.

She even allows DANIEL to stroke his hand down her back, causing DANIEL to turn to Sungwoon with an innocent, almost childlike expression of delight on his face—all due to the simple experience of petting a cat. Sungwoon gives him a thumbs up and DANIEL’s smile widens before he returns his attention to the animal, scooping more food into his palm for her to eat.

Sungwoon finds himself shaking his head, both in amusement and in wonder at the irony—that in this godforsaken world, DANIEL, who was assembled entirely from machine parts, somehow possesses more humanity than any living person he knows.

┅

 **nielwoon ; daniel x sungwoon -** **canon compliant - 637 w**

“Hyung…” Daniel exhales as he tries to remain still for Sungwoon to fix that stray strand of his wig, trying not to recall how Sungwoon is way too accustomed to this—how this is probably the fourth time Sungwoon has crossdressed.

It’s unfair how well Sungwoon pulls it off too, even if he’s slightly grumpy about the fact—Daniel knows his irritation is mostly for show anyway—the long wavy locks and light makeup making Sungwoon appear almost delicate; the very opposite from Daniel, who just looks like his normal self wearing a wig and whose lacy blouse does nothing to hide his 60cm shoulders.

“I don’t want to do this,” Daniel whines childishly, mostly to fill the silence and distract himself from thinking too hard about the way the soft fabric of Sungwoon’s dress brushes against his toned thighs.

“Then you shouldn’t have made the bet with Minhyun,” Sungwoon replies without a trace of sympathy in his voice. “Honestly what were you _thinking_?”

“I swear he didn’t use to be this devious,” Daniel defends.

He really _did_ think he would best Minhyun in a contest to list the most creative places where they’d each hooked up; Minhyun’s answers had been unexpected and eye-opening. Sungwoon’s lack of sympathy is probably due to the fact that he got roped into their shenanigans against his will. Daniel was allowed to pick any member to join him in his punishment and messing with Sungwoon always gets the best reaction, so naturally, he picked him.

Now though, as he tries his hardest to pull his gaze away from Sungwoon’s stupidly pretty legs which are only accentuated by the fishnet stockings and stiletto heels he’s wearing, he thinks he may have played himself.

“Minhyun’s always been this devious, you’re just too gullible.”

Daniel pouts in response, but Sungwoon ignores him in favor of walking to the dresser to grab the makeup bag. He moves with ease, maneuvering in his heels with such natural grace that it really begs the question how he acquired that particular skill in the first place. Daniel, on the other hand, can barely stand up without tottering over and he has absolutely no idea how he’s supposed to dance Red Velvet’s choreography to ‘Bad Boy’ in front of the other members without tripping over his feet and making a total fool of himself—but then, that’s probably the point.

“Hold still,” Sungwoon says, returning with the bag and leaning in close.

Sungwoon reaches out a hand to cup Daniel’s face and gently guide his gaze back to him; in such close proximity, Daniel can’t help but notice how the mascara really makes Sungwoon’s eyes pop. He lets out an audible gulp and then Sungwoon is pressing his thumb to Daniel’s lower lip, his other hand holding an uncapped tube of red lipstick, which he uses to trace Daniel’s lips with intent and a surprising amount of care.

Once he’s done, Sungwoon pulls back and just stares at Daniel for a beat—admiring his handiwork or maybe just thinking that Daniel looks really fucking ugly in red—and Daniel feels the heat rise to his cheeks.

“What? Does it look bad?” Daniel asks, tugging self-consciously at his wig again despite the fact that it shouldn’t even matter; this is a punishment, not a modeling contest.

Sungwoon blinks slowly and shakes his head, coming out of his stupor. He flashes Daniel a small smile.

“No— no, you look good,” Sungwoon says, ducking his head quickly and busying himself with the makeup bag again. His wig does nothing to hide the redness of his ears, however, and it gives Daniel a sudden surge of confidence.

Emboldened, he stands up and grabs Sungwoon’s hand. Sungwoon turns to him with a startled expression and Daniel grins as he interlaces their fingers. “Come on, let’s show them what we got.”

┅

**onghwang ; seongwoo x minhyun - spies au - 414 w**

It’s at times like this, when Seongwoo’s laughing, pretty grin on his lips and eyes shining with mirth, that Minhyun thinks he’s the most dangerous.

True, Seongwoo is skilled with a knife and Minhyun still has the faint scar from the first time they met—when Seongwoo pressed a blade to his throat after discovering that Minhyun was trying to take out the very target that he was meant to protect—but in the years since they’ve come to work as partners, he’s learned that Seongwoo is at his most dangerous when he is unarmed; that the only weapon he needs is a smile.

Like now, as he chats up the older woman at the hotel bar, laughing at her joke while wearing a convincingly enamoured expression before leaning in and whispering, just loud enough for the mic to pick it up and wire-feed it back into Minhyun’s ear, _You are the most beautiful person in the room tonight._

Minhyun can’t even begrudge the target’s high girlish giggle or the fact that she falls for such a generic line because Seongwoo has the innate ability to charm and fluster anyone, and even now, as his eyes flick above her head to meet Minhyun’s across the room, Minhyun can feel warmth rise in his own cheeks.

It takes less than ten minutes before Seongwoo is leading the target out of the bar and presumably to her hotel room like planned, their half-finished whiskey sours left abandoned at the bar. Minhyun calmly polishes off the last few bites of his pasta, making certain that there is no tail, before he pays the bill and follows them.

His timing is impeccable as usual and he’s only waiting a moment before Seongwoo exits the room, the target’s rumbling snores echoing into the hallway.

“Did you get it?” Minhyun asks, and Seongwoo flashes him a triumphant smirk, holding up the flash drive between his thumb and pointer finger

“Do you even need to ask?” Seongwoo responds, a flirty edge to his voice. “When have I ever disappointed, Minhyun?”

Seongwoo is wearing the same lethal smile as earlier because he’s still high off success and it always takes him a few hours to shake a character, and Minhyun tries to remind himself that it’s just that— _a character_ —but when Seongwoo leans in close and slips the flash drive into the breast pocket of Minhyun’s jacket, Minhyun’s heart betrays him, thudding heavily in his chest.

“You’re right,” Minhyun concedes, voice thick, “you never do.”

┅

 **onghwang ; seongwoo x minhyun - superhero/supervillain au -** **461 w**

“So you’re telling me I’ve been texting the wrong number all week, when I thought you were my best friend and even told you all my deepest darkest secrets?” Minhyun asks and if he wasn’t busy panicking he’d be proud of himself for only sounding a little bit shrill.

“Oh my god,” he whispers in horror when Captain Sexy Danger nods. He probably should’ve realized that it wasn’t Jonghyun he was texting when his friend kept pressing for sordid details; Jonghyun is far too shy for that. He never expected _this_ though.

“Listen, in my defense,” Captain Sexy Danger says, raising his black-gloved hands in an appeasing gesture, “I just wanted to be there for you. Bro to bro.”

“We aren’t _bros_ ,” Minhyun hisses, “you’re my _nemesis._ ”

“Who you apparently want to bend over a—”

“Don’t,” Minhyun cuts in, doing his best to sound authoritative despite the fact that he’s the one on the ground, after getting his ass handed to him by a man dressed entirely in pleather, and subsequently discovering that said man apparently knows _all_ of Minhyun’s most personal secrets, including the intimidate and embarrassing details of the many fantasies Minhyun has about him. Supervillain indeed.

Minhyun puts his head in his hands and groans. How could he be this careless? Not only telling Seoul’s Sexiest Supervillain about his weaknesses, but also revealing his true identity in the process. If the rumors are true and he’s really as evil as they all say, Minhyun may as well kiss his days of vigilante heroism goodbye.

“Listen,” Captain Sexy Danger says, sounding oddly hesitant. He shuffles closer and crouches next to Minhyun, hands hovering in mid-air, almost like he wants to comfort him, but hasn’t the slightest idea how to go about such a task. “Stop freaking out. It’s fine. I mean, where do you think my alias came from in the first place? You’re not the only one and I don’t mind anyway.”

“It’s _not_ fine,” Minhyun snipes. “I can’t believe I told you my _identity_.”

“Well, if it makes you feel better,” the other man responds, and Minhyun lifts his head to see, to his utter surprise, that he’s peeling off his mask. A moment later, Minhyun is face to face with a man no older than Minhyun himself and who is also quite possibly the most stunningly beautiful person he’s seen in his entire life. “Now you know mine.”

Minhyun blinks rapidly in disbelief as Captain Sexy Danger smiles at him—it’s disarming really; gentle and sweet, making him look far more like a cute boy next door than a supervillain—and holds out a hand.

“I’m Seongwoo,” he says when Minhyun reaches out his own hand to shake his, “and I think you’ve got some really creative ideas.”

┅

**ongwhang ; seongwoo x minhyun - actors au - 324 w**

“Cut!” Jisung exclaims loudly to the staff, before casually remarking, “you know, that was a cue for you both to stop now.”

It takes another twenty seconds before Seongwoo even registers Jisung’s words and he pulls away from Minhyun with no small amount of reluctance. Minhyun, his co-lead on the drama and the person with whom Seongwoo just had the most passionate make out session of his entire life with (read: his _only_ make out session), straightens up and licks his lips, almost as an afterthought. Seongwoo sits there for a few beats, mesmerized by how _red and_ _shiny_ they appear, before he remembers that it’s rude to stare.

“So,” Seongwoo says, scrambling to fill the sudden, oppressive silence, “got that in one take. Nice.”

Minhyun just blinks a few times and fidgets with the sleeve of his hanbok, but says nothing.

Seongwoo lets out a nervous chuckle. “Guess when you’re in the biz for long enough you really hone your kissing technique, huh?”

“I wouldn’t know. That was my first kiss.”

“Oh,” Seongwoo croaks. He ducks his head, feeling a little like an insensitive jerk and a lot embarrassed, and adds in a whisper, “mine too.”

Minhyun’s eyes widen and he lets out a soft exhale of surprise.

Seongwoo chews on his lip, trying to phrase his next words with a bit more tact. “Um, then, would you maybe like to go the dressing room while they set up the cameras and pick up where we left off?”

Minhyun’s answering smile is heart-stopping. “Why not? I could use the extra practice.”

(They return fifteen minutes later with swollen lips and flushed faces. Sungwoon, his makeup artist, nearly goes into conniptions and whacks him on the nose with his foundation brush in irritation— _are those hickies Seongwoo?!_ —but when Seongwoo turns, he sees Minhyun grinning at him while he, too, receives the same lecture from his makeup artist, and Seongwoo knows it was worth it.)

┅

**komucloud ; hyunbin x sungwoon - magical realism - 627 w**

_“A flower cannot blossom without sunshine, and man cannot live without love.” ~_ _Friedrich Max Müller_

There was a time when Hyunbin thrived—when he was watered and fed sunlight everyday under the watchful eye of a kind elderly woman—but those days are distant memories, and now the only reality he knows is one of struggle, of wilting from thirst, of straining futilely towards the rays of sunshine just beyond his reach, of hoping that one day someone will remember him and care for him once again.

He doesn’t know how much time has passed until his prayers are finally answered, only that on a day when Hyunbin feels so weak that even existing seems a nearly impossible task, a young man lifts him up from his shady corner in the kitchen and moves him outside into the sun. The man treats him with the same sort of care that the elderly woman once did, and Hyunbin is carefully repotted, watered, and fed the plant nutrients he needs to be brought back from the brink of death.

His name is Sungwoon.

Hyunbin learns this because Sungwoon cheerfully tells him while he’s trimming Hyunbin’s dead leaves. He’s a chatterbox in general it seems, and Hyunbin soon discovers many more interesting details about him, like the fact that he promised his grandmother he would look after her plants and garden if she passed away. Or the fact that Sungwoon recently moved to the farmhouse to help out his grandfather, and that, while he doesn’t mind the work, he’ll often wistfully recall the time when he lived in the city and was near his friends.

From what Hyunbin understands of human emotion, Sungwoon is lonely.

There are many days when Hyunbin wishes he could do more than just listen, but Sungwoon is never able to hear his replies, and so Hyunbin tries to convey his appreciation and offer comfort without words, gathering his strength to turn his buds into blossoms. Sungwoon is ecstatic when Hyunbin flowers, showering him with praise and telling him proudly that he’s _done so well_.

It’s a weird moment for Hyunbin when he wakes up one morning on the dining room table where Sungwoon had placed him the night before, covered in lavender flower petals and surprisingly _human_. Hyunbin stands up and is busy marveling over how strange it is to have limbs—and how impractically _long_ they are—when Sungwoon walks into the room. He stares at Hyunbin with an expression of utter shock, and Hyunbin feels oddly nervous for a few seconds, before a bright smile spreads across Sungwoon’s face.

“You’re real,” Sungwoon says, awestruck, “and really, really tall.” He lets out a short, incredulous giggle. “I wished for a friend last night and now here you are.”

Only then does he seem to realize Hyunbin’s state of undress because his eyes widen and cheeks flush before he runs out of the room. Sungwoon returns with a thick duvet which he proceeds to wrap securely around Hyunbin’s shoulders, ensuring that he’s cozy and warm.

“I don’t have any clothes that will fit you, but I’ll go buy some when the stores open,” Sungwoon says. There’s a fondness in his voice and in his gaze, and Hyunbin wonders if a human heartbeat is meant to feel like hammering in his chest. “What should I call you?”

“Hyunbin,” he answers, and for once, Sungwoon hears his reply.

(Hyunbin learns many things over the following weeks: the way the sun feels on human skin, the way human food tastes, the way _Sungwoon’s kisses_ taste, the feeling of holding Sungwoon in his arms, and finally, the feeling of falling in love.

He also experiences what it feels like to be loved by Sungwoon, but then, he supposes, he’s always already known that.)

 


	4. do you feel the same? | daniel/sungwoon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a quick bit of canon!verse nielwoon fluff based on [this](https://twitter.com/cloudfairy22/status/1061108865897443329?s=21). rated pg, 1130 w. enjoy!

“This has seriously got to stop,” Sungwoon grumbles as he stomps into the dorm, kicking off his shoes as he goes. The absence of other pairs at the entryway and the lack of noise are clear indicators that no one is home, which only further annoys Sungwoon because he was secretly hoping for an audience to listen to him complain, preferably in the form of Jisung-hyung or Minhyun, who are the best at the whole comforting thing.

Instead, Sungwoon is left alone with the very person who is the root of all his life’s problems.

“Why?” Daniel asks, following him into the dorm and shutting the door, oblivious as ever to the amount emotional turmoil he causes Sungwoon on a daily basis. In fact, he looks the very picture of calm and unbothered as he toes off shoes and hangs up his coat.

“Because!” Sungwoon cries, throwing his arms up in the air. “The taxi driver thought we were  _dating_. And earlier today it was Jimin.” He gives Daniel a disbelieving stare. Is he seriously not getting this? “ _Everyone_ thinks we’re dating.”

Daniel just shrugs his shoulders and calmly takes a seat on the couch. Sungwoon chooses to pace angrily back and forth in front of him.  

“Look I was fine that time we went out for japchae and those teens on the street mistook me as your girlfriend—”

“You were _not_ fine,” Daniel remarks, amused. Sungwoon shoots him a poisonous glare, and Daniel smiles and mimes zipping his lips.

“I was _fine_ with it then because it was dark, I was even fine when the stylist noona joked about couple styling, or when our manager’s niece asked if we were married because she’s young and it’s cute. But Jimin? My sweet, trusted dongsaeng, mistakenly assuming that you’re my boyfriend?!” He’s sounding a bit shrill, even to his own ears, but this is a problem of enormous proportion and he can’t be expected to worry over vocal modulation right now.

“I guess I just don’t see the issue,” Daniel admits. He flashes Sungwoon an innocent smile.

“The _issue_ is that he’s my friend, Daniel. And if my friend thinks, _assumes_ —” Sungwoon cuts himself off and runs a hand through his hair, thoroughly frustrated. How is he supposed to explain how utterly humiliating it is to have to tell people time and time again that _no, they aren’t together_ and _yes, he is aware that he looks at Kang Daniel like a lovestruck fool, he’s trying to tone it down, it’s just really difficult, okay?_

Especially because it’s either followed by a pitying smile and nod, or worse — by skepticism, like they think Sungwoon’s lying to them about dating Daniel. Sungwoon _wishes_ he was lying. But no, what he’s telling them is the bitter truth.

“Hyung? Are you okay?” Daniel asks, waving a hand in front of Sungwoon’s face after he’d stopped suddenly, mid-sentence and mid-stride.

Sungwoon blinks rapidly, remembering where he is. Most of the fight has left him now though, and he just slumps his shoulders dejectedly.

“Yeah, it’s fine. Forget it.” He takes a seat next to Daniel, sagging against the couch cushions. “I guess I’ve just been kind of worked up lately.”

And Daniel, because he’s an overly affectionate human being and also a pretty good friend, does what he always does whenever Sungwoon’s upset, and wraps his strong arms around Sungwoon’s body, pulling him into a tight embrace. Sungwoon’s face sort of naturally falls into the crook of Daniel’s neck, and for once, he just let’s himself enjoy it.

“This is exactly why people assume we’re together,” Sungwoon mutters, still feeling rather surly.

“I can stop if you want.”

Daniel makes to pull away, but Sungwoon’s arms are faster, interlocking around Daniel’s waist to keep him in place.

“I didn’t say _that,_ ” Sungwoon grumbles. “Don’t stop.”

He refuses to look at Daniel, but he can hear the smile in his voice. “Okay.”

After a few moments, Daniel starts rubbing soothing circles down Sungwoon’s back as though he's one of Daniel’s cats, which is something Sungwoon’s sure he’ll be embarrassed about later probably, but for now, it feels rather nice. It’s so nice that Sungwoon melts in Daniel’s arms, and they sit there in silence, as Daniel’s deft hands soothe his stress away.

Eventually, Daniel breaks the silence.

“Would it be so bad?”

“What?” Sungwoon asks, mind sluggish and slow. It’s not his fault Daniel is warm and Sungwoon is perpetually sleep-deprived; it’s only natural that he’d started to nod off.

Daniel pulls back a bit so Sungwoon is forced to lift his head and make eye contact with him. Daniel’s eyes are wide and vulnerable.

“Would it be so bad to date me?”

Sungwoon freezes like a deer in the headlights. _Shit, shit, shit_ echoes in his brain like a mantra. He wasn’t expecting Daniel to say that and his reaction is probably a dead giveaway if the heat in his cheeks is any indication.

 _No, not at all, actually it’s all I’ve wanted for the past six months_ , Sungwoon thinks but doesn’t say.

Instead, Sungwoon swallows thickly and tries to smile. When in doubt, play dumb. “No, I’m sure you’d make a great boyfriend to someone.”

“That’s not what I meant, hyung.” Daniel whines, but there’s a smile dancing across Daniel’s lips now, and any shred of insecurity in his eyes has disappeared. He lifts a large hand to cup Sungwoon’s jaw and runs the pad of his thumb across Sungwoon’s lower lip. Sungwoon’s breath hitches and his heart thunders in his chest.

“T-then say what you mean,” Sungwoon stutters out. It doesn’t sound nearly as forceful as he’d intended.

Daniel grins but doesn’t speak, and a moment later, his lips are pressing against Sungwoon’s own. Daniel’s mouth moves softly, insistently against his own, leaving no room for doubt about what _exactly_ he means.

Kissing Daniel is overwhelming, just like everything about him, and when Daniel deepens the kiss, Sungwoon surges up to meet him, clinging on tightly to his shoulders, as though at any given moment, a current might sweep him away.

When they break apart, Daniel is beaming. It’s Sungwoon’s favorite smile, the one where his eyes scrunch up so tightly that he can barely see and his cute protruding bunny teeth are on full display. The one which Sungwoon has come to learn means Daniel is well and truly happy.

Sungwoon’s own expression right now isn’t too far off either.  

After a few truly embarrassing, sappy moments during which they just smile at one another, Daniel speaks again.

“Do you want to date me, hyung?” Daniel asks with a teasing lilt in his voice.

“Well,” Sungwoon says, feigning annoyance that Daniel sees immediately through, “I guess it wouldn’t be _so_ bad.”


End file.
